


I Am Too Fond

by evol_love



Category: Romeo And Juliet - Shakespeare, SHAKESPEARE William - Works
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, blood tw i guess, the blood is more implied than anything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-29
Updated: 2013-08-29
Packaged: 2017-12-24 23:29:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/945952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evol_love/pseuds/evol_love
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They’ve always known each other far too well. They read each other like books with footnotes only they can see. No one else tries to turn the pages, but Benvolio knows the index and the table of contents of Mercutio like his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Am Too Fond

**Author's Note:**

> "In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond."  
> -Juliet, Romeo and Juliet, Act 2 Scene 2

"Remind me why we're here?" Mercutio asks, arms folded across his chest in a way that indicates he's cold but won't admit it. Benvolio knows better, though, and wordlessly puts his own warm, lovely jacket around his friend's shoulders. "I'm not a baby, Benny, I'm fine," he protests, but Benvolio knows that's Mercutio's own fucked up way of saying thank you.

"We're here because Juliet's top of the pyramid tonight," Romeo answers. He waves from his place in the stands down at the group of cheerleaders below, who are jumping around as much to stay warm in their tiny uniforms as to do their job of cheering. The girl in question, Romeo's girlfriend of five months, giggles and waves back, blushing and hiding her face behind her pompoms. She might come across as a bit vapid, but Benvolio likes her. She’s sweet and kind to everyone, and will also absolutely destroy you if you take advantage of that. Benvolio had personally witnessed the time Mercutio made one too many jokes about her sex life and she’d threatened him so sharply that he'd gone completely ashen. Actually, he may have captured that moment on video. 

"I hate school football games. What's the fucking point?" Mercutio rails to no one in particular. Benvolio just smiles to himself, because Mercutio _always_ acts too cool for school spirit, but by the end of the night without fail, he'll have screamed himself hoarse from cheering and booing and yelling at the ref. He's also been known to start the wave, because he's a ridiculous person.

They’ve always known each other far too well. Benvolio always knows Mercutio’s moods and how everything he does will play out. He can always tell when Mercutio is lying, and Mercutio always knows when he does the same. They read each other like books with footnotes only they can see. No one else tries to turn the pages, but Benvolio knows the index and the table of contents of Mercutio like his own.

"I'm going to get food. Anyone want anything?"

"Get me coffee. I can't take this bullshit without caffeine."

"Cappuccino?"

"You're a prince."

Benvolio's good mood carries him all the way to the concession stand, and he's already paid and waiting for his order when he hears, "What are you smirking about, Montague?"

Ah yes, the siren song of the Capulets.

He turns around to find Sam and Gregory Capulet, who are unpleasant enough but really not bad people if you get past the petty rivalries. "What, I can't enjoy a good football game? Tybalt's playing very well," he says serenely.

The boys gape at him as if unable to respond, as if the idea of a Montague complimenting a Capulet had caused their brains to short circuit.

His coffee was ready then, and he took the drinks gratefully before giving a friendly nod of departure to the still-baffled Capulet boys.

"What's the damage?" he asks as he returns to his seat between Mercutio and Romeo, handing the former his drink without even looking at him.

"We're ahead, but not by much. Capulet fucking fumbled, big shock there," Mercutio scoffs.

"I thought he was playing pretty well," Benvolio counters, feeling the need to play Devil's advocate here. As usual.

"You thought his ass looked nice, Benny, it's not the same thing," Mercutio replies, eyes still intent on the field below.

"I date Peter for two weeks and you assume I'm instantly attracted to Capulets now. I should be insulted." Mercutio just snorts and rolls his eyes, but Romeo looks at Benvolio in bewilderment.

"You dated Peter Capulet?"

"...Yes?"

Mercutio breaks his gaze from the game and stares at Romeo in disbelief. "You don't remember that week last year when I stopped talking to Benny, or the week after when I followed him around begging his forgiveness, or the week after that when I kept threatening to beat Peter up behind the school gym?"

"No?"

"You were going to be my second in that fight." Mercutio frowns thoughtfully. "I should have thought that one through, probably."

"Probably," Benvolio agrees. Then he does a double take and asks Mercutio, “Are you smoking?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s not a cigarette.”

Mercutio laughs. “No shit, Sherlock.” He offers the joint to Benvolio. 

“No thanks, I’d prefer to not be arrested at a high school football game if it’s all the same to you,” Benvolio answers primly. “Put that shit out.”

“Sorry mom,” Mercutio grumbles, but he does as Benvolio asks.  
\-----------------------------------------------  
They win the game, and Mercutio is in incredibly high spirits as they exit the stadium, practically jumping with enthusiasm (It’s probably just the joint). Romeo is all smiles too, arm in arm with Juliet, who was very lovely on top of the pyramid, as promised. She and Romeo are doing that stupid thing where they scrunch up their noses and make ridiculous faces and laugh at each other, and they keep fucking _kissing_ in front of Benvolio, and he might really vomit this time. Mercutio catches sight of Benvolio’s expression and smirks at him, coming over to walk beside him instead of charging on ahead of the group.

“They’re revolting, aren’t they?” Mercutio stage whispers. Not that it matters--Romeo and Juliet wouldn’t hear a bomb at this point.

“Completely disgusting,” Benvolio agrees, but he feels a bit better now, so he adds, “They must be really happy.”

“Benny, if I’m ever in a relationship,” he pauses to laugh a little at the very idea, “and I’m _this_ unbearable, please do me a favor and punch me in the face.”

“Oh, I don’t think we’ll have to wait that long before I’ll want to deck you again.” Mercutio shoves him, hard, and Benvolio almost loses his balance. “Hey!” And he shoves Mercutio right back, and then it’s a complete war and they both end up falling down just outside the stadium, right onto the grass. They’re laughing helplessly, and Mercutio throws an arm around Benvolio’s shoulder, the pair of them still sprawled on the ground.

“Benny, why would I ever need a girlfriend to distract me from life when I’ve got you?” he sighs.

It’s a completely innocent statement, but it sobers Benvolio up pretty quickly, and he pushes to his feet. “Do you want a ride home?” he asks, being the only member of their party with his license. Suddenly, the idea of driving home with just Romeo and Juliet is completely terrifying.

“Sure,” Mercutio says, but he’s frowning a little, like he sensed Benvolio’s mood swing and he doesn’t like it.

They walk to the parking lot in silence, and Mercutio hops in the passenger seat just as Benvolio gets a text from Romeo.

_got a ride from Js mom so im good XD_

His initial horror at Romeo’s choice in emoticons is quickly replaced by the realization that he’s essentially signed himself up for a car ride with just Mercutio the whole way home. Great planning, Montague. 

The silence that stretches between them is completely horrible, mostly because Mercutio not talking Benvolio’s ear off about something stupid is something that just doesn’t happen.

“What?” Benvolio asks finally, unable to take it.

“I was just waiting for you to say something. You got all weird back at the game and i didn’t want to piss you off or something.”

“You _always_ piss me off,” Benvolio mutters, but his heart’s not in it.

“No I don’t.”

The thing Benvolio hates the most about Mercutio is that he’s always, always right. He lets the silence settle over them again. 

“The thing is, I don’t even know what I did this time,” Mercutio says finally. Benvolio knew he could count on Mercutio to break the silence. It’s his gift.

“You didn’t do anything,” Benvolio tells him, and he suddenly feels exhausted, like he’s talking to a very young child who won’t stop asking ‘why?’

Mercutio turns on the car stereo and flips it to some obnoxious rap station that’s giving Benvolio a headache, but which amuses Mercutio enough that he lets it pass. He glances over and sees Mercutio head banging to the thumping beat, and he has to stifle a laugh. Mercutio looks over at him then, and their eyes meet, and Benvolio quickly turns his gaze back on the blissfully vacant road ahead of him. 

“Rosaline was flirting with you,” Benvolio says finally, searching for something, anything to talk about. 

Mercutio snorts. “Her? No thanks.”

“She’s pretty, if you like that kind of thing.”

“What kind of thing? The bitchy blond thing?”

“I was going to go for...intense.”

“You’re so fucking nice, Benny. I don’t know how you do it.”

“It’s not like I have to _work_ towards being nice, it’s easy. You should try it sometime.”

“But that’s the thing,” Mercutio insists. “It _doesn’t_ come easy for us mere mortals. we actually have to put forth effort and shit. Like I’m gonna say anything polite to those Capulet assholes. But you can just, I don’t know, have like whole conversations with people who are total idiots. It’s inspiring, really.”

“Nice to know I’m appreciated, I guess,” Benvolio says, trying and failing to not be charmed by Mercutio’s words. 

“Of course I appreciate you, Benny, you and Romeo are my whole world.”

It’s a completely ridiculous thing to say. And not true. But Benvolio gets choked up and has to look anywhere but at Mercutio all the same.  
\---------------------------------------------------------  
He wakes up to his phone screaming at him and he curses loudly at Mercutio for stealing his phone and changing all his ringtones. And really, the fact that he’d made the one for himself “When You Were Young” was just a tad bit egotistical. He grumbles at the noise to stop, but it doesn’t, and he rolls over and answers the call.

“What the hell?” he asks in greeting.  


“I thought you liked that song!” Mercutio protested, and Benvolio can _hear_ that stupid smile over the phone. “Anyway, Romeo and I are going to party at the capulets tonight. I know, I know. But Juliet invited us and everything, and there’s free food, so how can I say no?”

“This is going to end badly and you know it,” Benvolio says evenly. In truth, he’s suddenly more stressed out than he’s been in days. Every time Mercutio gets near Capulets, he tends to get hurt. and Benvolio really does not want to deal with the inevitable fallout today. “And I’m not going so who’s going to take you to the emergency room this time?”

“Aw, baby, I’d never let anyone but you take me to the hospital. It’s our special thing.” Benvolio hates Mercutio, he really does. 

“Well, I’m not going, so stay out of trouble.” He knows that’s a completely useless thing to say, but he figures if he says it no one can blame him later. 

“It won’t be any fun without you,” Mercutio is whining. “Pleeeeeease?”

“You woke me up at ten thirty in the morning. Do I sound like I’m in the mood to party? I’m exhausted. No.”

“You’re no fun at all,” Mercutio pouts, and hangs up. Benvolio’s never felt such a strange mixture of panic and exasperation and longing and annoyance.

He spends the whole day on edge, waiting for the phone call that Mercutio’s been hurt again.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------  
“Benny, will you please please _please_ come to the party?” Mercutio tries again two hours later. He’s in Benvolio’s kitchen calmly eating all of their food and being a whiny bastard. “Come on, Romeo’s getting a ride with Juliet-”

“Just to clarify,” Benvolio cuts in. “This is about my car, not me.”

Mercutio makes a face. “Well, when you put it like that, I sound like an asshole.”

“You _are_ an asshole, Mercutio.”

“But you love me,” Mercutio sings gleefully. 

“God knows why,” Benvolio replies, snatching the previously unopened but now decimated bag of potato chips back from Mercutio.

“Hey, give those back, I wasn’t done!” Mercutio squawks.

“Yes, you are,” Benvolio answers, turning around. But he’s misjudged the distance, because Mercutio had stood to try to wrestle the bag back from him, and now they’re far too close together. And Mercutio is just... _looking_ at him, and he needs to get out of here right now--

And then Mercutio is pressing right up against him and they’re kissing, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, like this is just what they do and like it’s not the beginning and ending of Benvolio’s world. And perhaps that’s melodramatic, but he’s not thinking rationally right now, because he’s wanted this for _years_ and suddenly Mercutio just jumps in like it’s nothing. 

“No, no, stop,” he breathes, suddenly urgent, and he moves to push Mercutio away, but he’s already backing off. 

“I,” Mercutio coughs. “I’m sorry, I thought you--”

“I do.” Mercutio looks sort of amazed. “I do, but not like this. I’m not going to be another one of your impulses. Enjoy your party.” He leaves even though it’s his own kitchen, and hopes desperately that Mercutio won’t come after him.  
\---------------------------------------------------------------  
Five missed calls and 23 texts later, Mercutio has stopped trying to talk to him, and Benvolio wonders if maybe this is really it, if things between them, so tense for so long, finally snapped. It’s probably for the best. He’s spent too many years looking after a boy determined to be self-destructive.  
\---------------------------------------------------------------  
He wasn’t planning to answer the phone. He really wasn’t. But when he look at it and sees the time and sees Mercutio’s calling, he decides to risk it. 

“Hello?”

“Remember that thing you said about driving me to the emergency room?”

Benvolio’s blood runs cold. “I’m on my way. Where are you and what the hell did you do?” There’s a long pause. Benvolio is honestly terrified as he jumps in his car and slams on the gas. 

“So you know how I kept threatening to beat up Peter Capulet for you?” 

Benvolio chokes on a sob. “You _didn’t_. How stupid are you, you were _at his house_.”

“Well I didn’t think he’d bring Tybalt into it.”

“Where are you?” he asks again to distract himself from the thousands of emotions swimming through him in this moment, the prime one being fear.

“Like two blocks from the Capulets house, I dragged my ass as far away as I could.”

“As you could...how bad are you?”

A sardonic laugh. “Pretty fucking shitty, actually.”

“Why did you call me and not a goddamn ambulance you idiot?”

“You call me idiot a lot. That’s not very nice, especially since I kissed you earli-”

“I will hang up right fucking now and not speak to you the entire time you’re in the hospital,” Benvolio says, kindness gone. He’s completely serious, and Mercutio must know it, because he answers, “You’re number one in my speed dial. That’s why I called you.”

Benvolio decides to ignore the question of why on earth Mercutio bothered programming his speed dial and asks, “Because I was easy?”

“Because you were the first person I _wanted_ to talk to.” He coughs again. “So, to be clear, we’re not going to talk about this?”

Benvolio sighs and almost misses his turn. “We’re not talking about this right now.”

“I hate to be impatient here when you’re rushing in to save me and all, but are you close, because I think I’m about to die.”

“Don’t ever say that again,” Benvolio says harshly, and jumps out of the car at the spot Mercutio had told him. 

“I suppose I should have asked if blood makes you squeamish first, huh?” is the first thing out of Mercutio’s mouth, and Benvolio doesn’t know if he should laugh or cry, because Tybalt has beaten the shit out of him.

“Oh my god, how long did you fight him?”

“Long enough. and don’t think he got off easy, he’s going to have some pretty nice bruises and a fat lip tomorrow,” Mercutio promises. Always trying to make light and be brave, god damn him.

“Get in the car. Do you need help?”

Mercutio bites his lip, which is bleeding like everything else, and he doesn’t answer, which Benvolio knows is a yes. He helps him up and supports him with an arm and helps him limp to the car, and Mercutio is walking in a guarded way that tells him Tybalt kicked him in the stomach, probably more than once. He’s actually going to cry, fuck everything. He reminds himself that he has to be the rational one, the one who holds everything and everyone together, composes himself, and shoves Mercutio into the passenger seat.

“Thank you,” Mercutio says, so quietly Benvolio’s not sure he really said it at all.

“Why did you think this was a good idea?” 

“Peter said something rude about you and so of course I went in to defend your honor and then Tybalt got in on it all and. Yeah. it seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“You always say that, and you always get hurt.” Though never this badly.

“You should see Peter though, I got him good. He’s going to have a spectacular shiner.”

“Look, I appreciate it and all, but I really don’t care what they’re saying about me, you could have just let it go.”

“No,” suddenly Mercutio’s voice is too serious, and Benvolio hates it. “No, I really couldn’t.”

They’re not going to talk about this. They’re not going to talk about this. They’re not going to talk about this. 

“Look, I understand you’re going through a lot right now, but I’m a human being too, so I’d appreciate it if you’d take your experimentation somewhere else and stopped breaking my heart just because it’s easy.” It sounds stupid and childish and Benvolio knows it, but it’s been said now. He dares a quick glance and sees that Mercutio looks completely stricken. “Forget it.”

They’re silent the rest of the ten minute drive.  
\------------------------------------------------------------  
He leaves the hospital as soon as Mercutio’s been taken care of and ignores the buzzing in his pocket indicating Romeo is freaking out. He only checks his phone when he’s finally home again and has made excuses to his parents for suddenly disappearing and is in his room again.

_WAIT A MINUTE_

_merc got beat up really bad but its ok i gave tybalt his but wheres merc now did u get him?_

_benny?_

_benny im kind of freakin out right now please tell me u have him and not peter or one of them_

_juliets crying pleez answer_

_im coming to your house right now if u dont answer_

“Jesus.” What did he do to deserve all this?

_Romeo, calm down. I took him to the hospital, he’s going to be okay._

The nurses had assured him that he’d be okay, anyway. As it is, though, Benvolio’s probably not going to sleep tonight. 

His phone buzzes again, but it’s Juliet this time.

_Is Mercutio okay? Romeo says you took care of him? I’m really sorry you had to be the one to deal with it. Are you all right?_

Benvolio knew she was smart, but maybe he’d underestimated her. 

_I’m fine. Thanks._

_How did the weepy love confession or however he planned it go?_ she replies.

 _What???_ he texts back quickly.

_Damn. I’ll let him explain that when he’s on his feet again. Serves him right. Did he really not tell you?_

_He just told me about the fight._

_Yeah, I think I’ll let him tell you this story. Don’t let him lie. Good night. I’m glad you’re doing okay. Let me know if you need anything._

Romeo chose well.  
\------------------------------------------------------------  
Mercutio survives the night, and the doctors tell Benvolio he’ll be allowed to go home the next day. He thanks them and goes into Mercutio’s room with every intention of settling this thing between them once and for all.

“Explain yourself,’ he says the moment he enters, handing the phone with Juliet's texts on display to him. 

Mercutio pales answers slowly, “Would this be a bad time to tell you that my near-death experience lead me to a romantic epiphany?” Benvolio raises an eyebrow at him and he quickly continues, “Juliet was the one who pulled me out of the fray last night and she, um, said that I was acting pretty passionate for someone who laughs at love and I kind of realized I might...you know...kind of...have feelings?”

Benvolio bites back the obvious oh-tinman-you-do-have-a-heart joke and says cautiously, “Feelings?”

“Feelings,” Mercutio confirms. “Would you be angry if I kissed you again? Once I’m not sitting in a hospital bed like a chump, of course. I wouldn’t want you to be mad because that would sort of defeat the point of kissing, don’t you think?”

“I guess so, yes,” Benvolio says, feeling a bit dizzy. 

“So is that a yes? To the, um, kissing thing?”

“You really expect me to believe that Tybalt beating you up made you fall in love with me?” He blushes even as he says it.

“No, no, it happened before that. I guess I just didn’t know at the time.”

“You’re an idiot. You know that, don’t you?”

“You insist on reminding me everyday.” They just stare at each other a moment. Benvolio can’t believe this is happening. What the hell is his life? “So is that a yes?”

“We’ll see,” Benvolio answers as he turns to leave. But they’ve always understood each other far too well. He knows Mercutio knows that’s a yes.


End file.
